


Vanilla Idea

by CloverHighFive



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Consensual, Consensual Kink, Consensual Sex, F/M, Sexting, Smut, can you really call it a kink if it's so vanilla
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-14
Updated: 2019-09-14
Packaged: 2020-10-18 13:51:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,983
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20640227
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CloverHighFive/pseuds/CloverHighFive
Summary: Dean’s idea of just making you wait (days) for sex might be a bit bland but turns out it’s efficient. Also, Dean likes to be a tease.





	Vanilla Idea

You and Dean had been together a little while now and although sex was almost always stellar – even the so-so sex was good, just to feel him in your arms – you felt you were ready for some games. Nothing fancy. You asked him how he felt about it one night.  
“What kind of games?”  
“I don’t know, I haven’t thought about it.”  
“Costumes? Cause your cowboy boots and hat are… hmmm…”  
“And the chaps.”  
Dean blushed. Your eyes trailed to his crotch. He chuckled. “I’m still under control.”  
So you didn’t know what you wanted, but the idea was out there.

The next night, Dean came with an idea. “It’s super vanilla though. But… I don’t know.”  
“Just shoot.”  
“I will not have sex with you for a week and you can’t pleasure yourself so when I get back to you it’s going to be explosive.”  
“That’s it?”  
“Yeah well I don’t have other ideas right now.”  
“Haha! I thought you’d have tons.”  
“I don’t know. I’m just drawing a blank.”  
“So nothing for me for a week. That’s it?”  
“Yeah. Basically.”  
“What about you?”  
“What about me?”  
“You do the same?”  
“Nope. I can do what I want.”  
“That’s unfair.”  
“That’s the idea. So what do you think?”  
It was vanilla alright. You didn’t have any other idea anyway. “Yeah why not.”

Monday and Tuesday were easy. There had been a vamp nest to take care of and, between the road, the research, the sharing a room with Sam (the motel was full), the exhaustion, there was no thought of sex crossing your mind.

Coming back to the bunker on Wednesday was a bit strange. There was this pavlovian response to coming back that meant privacy with Dean and usually post-hunt sex. The “no Sam in the room” sex. The “thank god we’re still alive” sex. Cuddling against Dean in bed that night was triggering. Then Dean had gone to the bathroom a bit longer than for just a night bathroom break and when he had come back, he’d fallen asleep suspiciously fast. It took you a bit longer.

Thursday was when Dean seemed to either realize what he could do or he had just been waiting on it. He’d be gone on a beer run and sent little texts like “miss you” and “jeans getting tight thinking of you” and “started raining and I thought how wet you are when I eat you”. Even if you thought these were silly and a bit stupid, your hormones sure thought they were brilliant and sexy. You hoped he’d come back quick but then remembered it was no use. You were on sabbatical.

Friday, Dean got bigger guns out. He was working on Baby and had taken a few selfies. On one of them, he made sure the angle went all the way to his crotch, and you could see a little peek of tummy cause his shirt was riding up. On another you could see droplets of sweat beading along his neck and you thought of going to the garage to lick it off and suck on that salty skin. The fucker knew what he was doing, for sure. That night, you tried sneaking to another room to go to sleep, but Dean caught you, smiled as he directed you to your bed and kept you in his arms. Sleep didn’t come fast. You felt grumpy.

Saturday you expected dick pics. That was the one thing Dean hadn’t done and he seemed to enjoy being a little shit. Surprisingly, you didn’t get any. The day went by pretty normally, with some research for a case and Dean very much concentrated on the books. He’d given you little kisses as he passed by, but that was it. The waiting for something to happen was almost worse.

When you got to bed though it was a different story. “Sam’s in the shower.”  
You didn’t know why Dean was telling you that. “And?”  
Dean just went on as he took his shirts off, getting ready for sleep, “That means it’s occupied.”  
“Wow, Captain Obvious, thanks for the news.”  
Dean took his jeans off, his socks, and took the chair from the corner and set it at the foot of the bed.  
“What is that for?”  
“Oh don’t bother with me. You can go to sleep, I’ll join you in a minute. I just need to take care of my business.”  
You frowned, perplexed, as he sat on the chair, legs wide open, stretching the fabric of his undies to show the outline of his hard cock. “Holy shit…”  
Dean rested his hand on his thigh, his thumb lightly stroking at the side of his cock. He looked up at you. “Can you keep your promise of not touching yourself? Cause I gotta do this, you know, or I won’t sleep.”  
“Um, I can try.”  
“You don’t have to look, you know.” And with that he took his cock out. The way he handled it, he was so soft, using only his fingertips.  
Of course, you couldn’t look away. It seemed so hard, so ready, you wanted it in you, in your mouth, in yourself, just wanted it. He wrapped his hand around it and on the first stroke he breathed in deeply and closed his eyes. Your breath hitched. Dammit. You could look away, you could put earplugs and go to sleep. Except of course you couldn’t. You watched as Dean stroked slowly, then faster, and breathing deeper, and his brow knitting, and his lips parted as his pleasure built and built. You could feel yourself being wet and throbbing and you realized that it was useless again. At least Dean was efficient and came quickly enough.  
He opened his eyes to look into yours. “Do you want to lick it?”  
“Fuck you.”  
“Tomorrow babe.” Dean came in bed all satisfied and you were on fire.  
You took a sleeping pill.

Sunday morning. You woke up thinking, yay, sex day, but turned to Dean’s empty side. You almost ran to the kitchen. Only Sam was there, on his laptop. “Where’s Dean?” you asked, a bit too fast, voice a bit too high.  
“Um, he’s gone to Jody’s to help Claire with a hunt. Give her some pointers so she doesn’t get dead.”  
“Fuck. Dammit.”  
“What? Maybe I can help you.”  
Your panic took a different turn. “No, no. It’s alright.”  
“You sure?”  
“Yeah.” You left and decided on a shower. The coldest possible.

As you were drying your hair with the towel, you thought, the fucker left. He left on sex day. He could have given Claire pointers over the phone, but no, he had to drive over 4 hours away on sex day. That’s not gonna fly. So you decided to text him things, stupid things – you were not really good at this – but you knew it would have an effect anyway. First text. “Hey babe just out of the shower.” Selfie of your belly with a hint of the underside of a boob almost out of frame. Hah. There. Once you saw he had seen it, you waited about an hour and sent him some casual “folding laundry” with a pic of said laundry – lace undies. “Going for groceries” was accompanied by a pic of a banana between two kiwis. “Back home” had the pic of the banana in your mouth. Every time, you’d see the little 'read' notice, but knew Dean was not in a position to answer.  
Around dinner time, a text came back “I’ll be home tonight.”  
You answered, “What time?”  
Dean replied, “Hopefully it’ll still be Sunday.” A moment passed, and another text came. “You still holding up?”  
You chuckled as you answered, “Yes but midnight comes our deal is off and I will start without you.”  
Only one text came back, a few moments later. “Wouldn’t want to miss that.”

You would have loved to just relax in a bubble bath, but the bunker only had a shower. Oh well. You opted for a movie night, letting the images of the action movies distract you. Inevitably, you found yourself checking the clock every 10 minutes. Midnight wasn’t coming fast enough. Dean neither.

The end of the second movie clocked at 11:53. Seven minutes to go. Might as well get prepared. DVD back in its box, teeth brushed, clothes put away neatly, you decided to stay naked in bed, cozy, checking the clock. 11:59. You pulled the sheets down just so your breasts would be exposed, letting the crisp cool air of the room harden your nipples. In the absolute silence of the bunker, you heard the echo of the door closing and someone – Dean – running down the stairs so fast you were expecting to hear someone falling down the stairs. The clock hit 12:00. You spread your legs and trailed your hand down.  
The door opened, an out of breath Dean bent over. “I’m… here… please… just… a… second…” He looked up. He saw your hand moving slowly under the sheet. “Shit shit shit”, Dean said under his breath, closing the door and scrambling to take his clothes off.  
While he was trying not to trip over himself, you let out a moany “I’m ssssso wet…”  
And Dean let out a “fuck!” while kicking his jeans away and almost ripping off his undies, his already hard cock bobbing out. He climbed into bed still focused on the movement of your hand under the sheets. “Babe, let me take care of it.”  
You eyed him as your hips twitched. “But it’s passed midnight.”  
“I’ll do you good. I’ve waited all week.”

And he kissed your breasts slowly. He then pulled the sheets all the way down and looked at your finger going around your clit and the little movements of your hips. He gently pushed your hand aside and dove in. His warm tongue, soft and firm, found its way around your pussy so hungrily you soon couldn’t discern what he was doing, but only felt the sensations building and your skin burning for his touch. You felt his hands and his tongue trail up your body. The electricity that went through you took your breath away. And as you thought, I have to breathe, you felt Dean enter you slowly, the head of his cock first pressing against your clit and then sliding in. Your whole body had missed him so much you arched as soon as he was fully in. You felt his hands stroke your breasts, a few kisses on your neck and your hands grabbed his waist as his movements steadily picked up. Flashes of Dean taking care of his business the night before sent you higher. Dean seemed in tune with you and grabbed you hard and started ramming into you hard and fast. You held him by the shoulders, his head beside yours into the pillow, hearing his muffled grunts louder as you felt yourself close in on him in ripples. Just hearing his grunts get higher pitches you knew he was losing it and it made you lose it even more, submerged in your orgasm.

As Dean slowed down, your hands registered how slippery he was. You brain registered the ride he’d just given you. His body slumped onto yours. You held him, kissing his shoulder. You heard a muffled “fuck” in the pillow and a breathless laugh.  
“What?”  
He lifted his head. He swept a strand of hair out of your face and kissed you. “I just realized I forgot to look at you when you came.”  
“And?”  
“That was the whole point. I wanted to see you. But you felt too good, I lost it.”  
“I’ll take that as a compliment.”  
“I guess we’ll have to try again. Maybe I’ll get to see you.”  
You kissed him. That kiss took longer to break. “I think I’d like that.”

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is also available [on tumblr](https://cloverhighfivewritestoo.tumblr.com/post/187713973777/vanilla-idea).
> 
> Thanks for reading! :D If you liked it, kudos are like hugs for writers! And if you feel like commenting, I'll answer back! :) Have a nice day/night/timeless travel!


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